


Charcoal and Petals

by Hormonal_Trashbag



Series: Reylo Fanfiction Tropes [5]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Florist Rey, Friends to Lovers, Reylo - Freeform, Tattoo Artist Ben
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-28 16:19:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8453251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hormonal_Trashbag/pseuds/Hormonal_Trashbag
Summary: She was just finishing an order form for a customer on the phone when she spotted a head of hair barely visible from behind the tulips lined out front. Rey wished the customer a good day without giving away her bewilderment, but didn’t let her eyes stray too far from the suspicious person sitting in front of the potted plants. Of course a weirdo decides to camp out the first day I open, Rey thought with a roll of her eyes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't read a single florist/tattoo artist AU for this ship and that is a shame. It's an overused trope in fanfiction but GOD do I love it.
> 
> Shout out to my awesome beta: grlie-girl!

Rey pursed her lips at her reflection in the mirror, holding her hair away from her face before dropping the loose waves to spill over her shoulders.

 

The decision to quit working at _Unkar’s Junkyard_ was perhaps the best Rey had ever made. For five years, from the day she turned fifteen and could legally work to just weeks after she reached the age of twenty, Rey slaved away for minimum wage in that sunbaked yard, sifting through scraps to find car parts of any worth. Her skin burned and knuckles bled and still she only barely managed to scrape by on her low pay, returning to her dingy apartment each night covered in dirt and grease.

 

Enough was enough, and Rey had snapped. It had taken one last salacious glance from Unkar Plutt before she stormed from the yard’s tiny office, tossing her old gloves to the ground as she marched out the front gate. There had to be a better job for her, one that didn’t involve her nose blistering in the summer heat or her lips turning blue in the freezing winters.

 

It was a stroke of absolute luck that as she violently pedalled her bicycle, she rode past the quaint flower shop on the corner before her street to find a wanted sign in the window. Rey took it as a signal that she had done the right thing, and promptly swerved her bike around to inquire inside about the job.

 

Leia Organa, owner of _Bee’s Flowers_ , was a middle-aged woman with contrasting sternness and gentleness. She took one look at Rey and knew she wasn’t in to buy a bouquet. Rather than judge or dismiss her, Leia performed a quasi-interview over the counter as she cut ribbons and promptly asked when Rey would be able to start training in a no-nonsense tone.

 

The following weeks were spent studying Leia and the two other florists that worked in her shop, Poe and Finn. Both were as welcoming and friendly as she could possibly hope, quick to rope her in on weekly pizza-and-movie nights and afternoon coffee adventures to the cafe down the road.

 

In only two months, she was happily settled in her new job, for which Leia was thankful; Rey had primarily been hired to open shop in the mornings, and now she was confident enough to take over those duties. She still wasn’t ready to start fulfilling orders, but soon she’d be back to working with her hands, arranging flowers rather than sifting through junk, and Rey looked forward to it.

 

There was no reason to be nervous--all she had to do was water all the potted plants and set up the outside display before Leia arrived to work on bouquets. She’d also help any stray customer with placing orders or purchasing pre-made arrangements. Rey had done all of these things before, but the thought of being alone in the shop was both exciting and nerve-wracking.

 

Finally, she decided to pull her hair back after all, twisting it into a messy bun. Tugging on jeans and a V-neck, Rey had little more time to worry about her appearance. She grabbed a protein bar on her way out the door, rolling her bike down the hall of her building as she munched on breakfast. After Leia got to the shop, she would run over to the cafe for a caffeine boost, but the bar would have to satisfy her until then.

 

The sun was still low in the sky, but Rey liked the peaceful, morning streets, empty before the start of the day.

 

 _Bee’s_ was dark inside as she unlocked the front doors, and it was strangely satisfying to be the one to flip on all the light switches and roll out the front mat. It was certainly a far cry from burning herself on rusted tail pipes.

 

Time flowed much more quickly than she expected. Rey rolled out the different pots Leia had set aside for the display and lined them up in even rows, turning each to show their best side. She watered the greenhouse plants as well as the ones on display out front, then swiftly swept the shop floors of dirt, taking a few calls over the early morning hours to set up orders to be picked up later.

 

She was just finishing an order form for a customer on the phone when she spotted a head of hair barely visible from behind the tulips lined out front. Rey wished the customer a good day without giving away her bewilderment, but didn’t let her eyes stray too far from the suspicious person sitting in front of the potted plants.

 

 _Of course a weirdo decides to camp out the first day I open,_ Rey thought with a roll of her eyes.

 

Rey steeled herself, squaring her shoulders in preparation for conflict, before swinging open the front door and stomping out, chimes ringing frantically with her excessive use of force.

 

He--the man sitting by the flowers with a sketchbook in his lap--didn’t look up at the sound of the door opening and greeted her with a simple, “Hey, mom.”

 

* * *

 

“Who are you calling _mom?”_

 

Ben paused at the snarky, accented response he was given, pencil freezing on paper.

 

He looked up to see a woman less than half his mother’s age, and instantly blurted, “Who the hell are you?”

 

The young woman’s expression flattened, and Ben watched as her gaze darted over the multiple tattoos on his exposed arms, then his labret piercing, then the studs that lined his earlobes. He was used to these sort of curious, uncomfortable looks, but it never ceased to irritate him. Undoubtedly without even realizing it, she had sized him up and was now crossing her arms in a defensive position against him, the _dangerous type._

 

“I work here,” she said, annoyance flaring in her voice. “What are you doing in front of the shop? We aren’t open yet.”

 

“My mom owns this shop. I come here almost every morning.”

 

Her glossy lips twisted in a frown. _“You’re_ Leia’s son.”

 

It wasn’t a question, but a bland, disbelieving statement. Admittedly, he didn’t look much like a florist’s son--not that he was entirely sure how that was _supposed_ to look. It wasn’t surprising that his mother had neglected to mention him to the new employee, but that wasn’t his problem.

 

“Yeah,” he said, “what of it?”

 

She looked flustered then, her high, sloping cheeks turning pink.

 

 _Huh._ She was kind of cute.

 

Ben snapped his sketchbook shut, tucking it under his arm as he abruptly stood to full height in a single, swift motion. He smirked; she was a full head shorter than him.

 

“Nothing,” she muttered, breaking from his gaze. She worried at her bottom lip with a row of pearly, white teeth, embarrassed.

 

She was more than just kind of cute. Ben wondered how he could have possibly missed her before, though she probably hadn’t been an employee for very long.

 

He decided to cut her some slack and offered his hand. “I’m Ben. I run the tattoo place across the street.”

 

She glanced a moment at his inked knuckles, tentative as she slid her palm against his, her small, calloused hand closing around his fingers in a solid handshake.

 

“Rey,” she replied.

 

“Rey,” he repeated, grinning as his second hand covered hers, fully engulfing her hand in both of his.

 

He saw from around Rey as his mother turned the corner to approach them both, her lips drawing into a thin line at seeing him with her new worker bee. His mother always had been able to sniff trouble out from a mile away. Ben grinned wide enough to bare his teeth, then for the benefit of his mother, raised her little hand in his and pressed a kiss to her knobby knuckles.

 

The girl saw red--Ben could see the ire in her wide, hazel eyes as he lifted his lips away.

 

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, _Sunshine,”_ he said with a devious smile.

 

Ben snickered to himself as he shoved both hands into his jeans’ pockets, sketchbook between his bicep and ribs, a slight skip to his step as he strut across the street at an angle, ignoring the crosswalk.

 

“My name is Rey!” she snapped after him.

 

He looked back at her once he was on the other side of the street, cupping a hand around the shell of his ear. “What? I can’t hear you from over here. Could you repeat that, Sunshine?”

 

His mother was standing next to her frazzled employee with her arms crossed and a look that promised a good, hearty scolding later. Unconcerned, Ben wiggled his fingers in a teasing wave, before strolling towards his own shop, digging for his keys then twirling them on his finger. He could practically feel the daggers Rey was sending at his back, and his grin widened.

 

* * *

 

Rey was unused to teasing. She had no siblings growing up, and she had been left alone through much of her schooling, so it was an entirely new concept to her.

 

She knew that she shouldn’t have been so quick to judge him, but at seeing his tattoos and intimidating build, all she could think about was the shady mechanics that would stop by _Unkar’s_ for car parts on the cheap. It didn’t help that it was her first morning alone and she had hoped to do everything properly to leave a good impression on Leia. After yelling at her son as he crossed the street, she doubted there was any chance of that.

 

But what should she have done? All she had seen was a strange man loitering outside the shop, sitting on the sidewalk to hide from view.

 

Rey glared as Ben enter the tattoo shop, jerking in surprise when a dainty hand curled over the round of her shoulder.

 

“I apologize for my son,” Leia sighed. By the way she said it, Rey got the impression these words were uttered often and in varying degrees of annoyance. “That boy takes after his father in the worst of ways.”

 

Rey shook her head. “No, I was rude first.”

 

Leia smiled, glancing over to where Ben had been sitting earlier, two paper coffee cups in his place. She stepped around Rey.

 

“He can be sweet, too,” Leia said, stooping over to grab both coffees, rolling her eyes and shaking her head as she turned his forgotten, half empty cup to find a number hastily scrawled along the side. “I’ll be sure he apologizes, next time he stops by.”

 

Rey shifted uncomfortably. He would be back again. “There’s no need,” she said.

 

Leia shrugged. “If you insist. I’m going to run him his coffee, so keep watching the shop until I get back. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

 

* * *

 

It was around three in the afternoon when the front door to the tattoo shop opened, and then closed with a slam. That door always had crashed shut, even when he was a kid. He had the power to replace it now, but it was a nostalgic feature of the old shop that he loved. Ben huffed, glancing over his shoulder to see how far Phasma had gotten. She was still working on the outline of the letter “S.” He wasn’t going to be leaving her bench for awhile.

 

“Hux, go get the front,” he called.

 

His grumbling fellow artist gave him a dirty look as he passed Phasma’s work station. Customer service was not Hux’s forte, and he didn’t so much as try to get along with clients.

 

He cursed when he recognized the voice out front.

 

“Is Ben here?”

 

Hux didn’t mince words. “He’s getting ‘kiss it’ tattooed on his ass.”

 

Phasma lifted her pen from his skin as she laughed to herself, not wanting to disrupt her typography work. At least the new ink would look good; her script was miles above what he or Hux could do.

 

“It’s for a bet, you bag of dicks,” Ben yelled out with a growl.

 

A moment of silence stretched on, and all he could picture was the nasty smirk on Hux’s face.

 

“Do you want to see?” he heard Hux ask with a sly tone.

 

 _“What?”_  she snarled back, offended once more. “No, I don’t want to see!”

 

Ben groaned, burying his face in his hands. Would it really have hurt Hux to _try?_ Now she was going to be angry before she even looked at him.

 

“Take a break, Phas,” Ben muttered.

 

She turned off her pen. “Is it that girl from this morning?”

 

Ben pushed himself up from the black cushions, careful to not sit on his backside as he got to his feet.

 

“Don’t get any funny ideas,” he answered, tugging his boxer shorts back over his ass cheeks, but leaving his jeans loose about his hips to avoid irritating Phasma’s work.

 

“Hux is the conniving one,” Phasma retorted.

 

Ben forced a grin, one hand holding up his unbuttoned jeans as he stepped out of Phasma’s station and into view.

 

“What’s up, Buttercup?”

 

He heard Phasma moan a quiet _are you kidding me?_

 

The ferocity of her glower was astounding. Her face turned a furious, glowing red, and he could feel himself beaming down at her. His mother had already stormed into the shop to chastise him for teasing her employee, but something about her stubborn, lower lip made him want to yank her chain, just to see it jut out.

 

“I already told you my name,” she seethed, hands planted on either hip.

 

“You did,” he agreed. “Old habits, and all that.”

 

“You haven’t known me long enough to form any habits,” she said flatly.

 

She had _no_ sense of humor, and Ben found it somehow endearing.

 

Rey breathed in, then slowly out, her hands dropping from her hips.

 

“Look, I just wanted to say sorry for earlier--” she glanced a second to Hux, who was leaning on the counter, chin propped up on his palm, his gazed fixed steadily on her, “--actually, could we not do this with him staring at me?”

 

“He told me to go up front,” Hux said, unabashed. “I want to see if he’ll start pulling on your hair next.”

 

“You’ve been very helpful, Hux,” Ben groused. “Fuck off.”

 

He let out a long-suffering sigh as he straightened his back. “Very well, if you insist.”

 

Hux stalked back to his own work station, but not before giving Ben a pointed look. He rolled his eyes, then settled back on Rey, whose lips were turned downward in a frown.

 

She exhaled through her nose in an attempt to calm herself. “I really like working at _Bee’s,_ and I don’t want there to be a reason for Leia to let me go. I’m sorry for being rude before.”

 

The girl was being sincere, and that made teasing her a lot less entertaining. It was not as if his mother would fire someone because of him, but if she was seriously concerned, Ben didn’t want to be the cause of it.

 

“Don’t worry about it Sweetheart-- _Rey,”_ he corrected quickly, raising both hands in surrender when her glare narrowed at him. Ben wasn’t sure he’d met a girl that didn’t like his silly pet names before, but she seemed upset by them.

 

He didn’t think about the fact that his hands had been holding up his loose jeans, and they promptly fell to his ankles. Ben wasn’t one to be embarrassed by being exposed, but the way she quietly squeaked and swiftly turned around had him flushing.

 

Ben hissed as he bent over to pull up his jeans, ignoring the poorly muffled laughter that was coming from behind. Of course Phasma and Hux needed to watch him flail about like an idiot. They weren’t going to let this go for a long time, and he couldn’t even blame them.

 

“Okay, I’m going now,” she uttered, rushing for the exit without looking back.

 

“Wait,” he said, jeans back around his hips, “how do you take your coffee?

 

She paused, hand already on the door and halfway through swinging it open. A moment of hesitation, and she carefully glanced his way, eyes avoiding anything below his neck.

 

“Medium roast with cream. No sugar,” she mumbled, rushing out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to my amazing beta, grlie-girl. You're the best! :)

The next day, Ben settled himself beside the daffodils, propping up a much larger pad of paper than the one Rey had seen previously. She noticed him as he was sitting, but finished sweeping before daring to stick her head outside. He hadn’t wanted to interrupt her, so she felt somewhat guilty when she crept behind him to look over his shoulder.

 

He was working with charcoal rather than pencil this time, sketching lightly before making grand gestures, sweeping rich black across the page to fill in shadows. He must have noticed her much sooner, but he rubbed the charcoal into the paper with his middle finger before setting it down to look up with her.

 

“Good morning,” he greeted with a chipper tone. He reached around to grab a coffee cup, gingerly handing it over without smearing charcoal on the lid.

 

She took a sip, humming in satisfaction as she swallowed.

 

“Did I get the cream right?” Ben asked.

 

“Yes,” she whispered, “thank you.”

 

“Old habits,” he reminded her, though she caught the smile on his face when he dipped his head forward to focus back on his drawing.

 

Rey didn’t linger, scuttling back into the shop without another word. She didn’t notice until she was inside that _Sweet Pea_ was written in Sharpie on her cup.

 

…

 

“You must really like flowers,” Rey told him a few days after his first coffee-offering. Usually she didn’t dally after he gave her her morning brew.

 

She hadn’t said anything about what he had asked the barista to write on her cup, and Ben had decided to not bring it up. He wasn’t entirely sure why he bothered when she clearly didn’t like name calling, but on the second day, he had watched her subtly check her cup for another endearment, and how she had resisted a smile.

 

The lady doth protest too much.

 

“I do,” he answered, not looking away from the pots of young peony plants. “I actually helped name _Bee’s.”_

 

She made a curious sound in the back of her throat. “Really?”

 

“Yeah,” he grinned, eyes fixed on the page. “My mom wanted to name it Leia’s, but I told her that all flowers belonged to the bees, not her. I was six years old and _adorable,_ so of course she went with it.”

 

For the first time, he heard her laugh outright, and the sound spread warmth across his chest.

 

She only watched over his shoulder for a minute more before returning inside, and Ben peeked his head up to catch her turning her paper cup about in search of the pet name. Today, she didn’t resist the little smile that curled her lips up pleasantly.

 

_Pumpkin._

 

…

 

_Honey Bee._

 

…

 

_Cupcake._

 

…

 

_Sugar Plum._

 

…

 

“You should just go out with him already,” Finn said. It was early afternoon on a Sunday, and slow enough that Leia didn’t feel it necessary to come in at all.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rey mumbled, tying a pale, pink ribbon around a wicker basket to be used by a flower girl in an upcoming wedding.

 

Finn shrugged, clearly not bothered too much by her predicament. “Everyone knows he has a weird, artsy-fartsy crush on you. And you like him too, so what’s the point in holding back?”

 

Rey sighed, trailing her fingers over silken ribbons, setting aside the basket. “I’m pretty sure Leia doesn’t want one of her employees going out with her son.”

 

He snorted at that, but said nothing more--it was enough to get his point across.

 

…

 

_Daisy Chain._

 

…

 

_Sweetheart._

 

…

 

_Sunshine._

 

…

 

Ben was startled when he held a cup of coffee up for Rey only to have his mother clear her throat.

“Pudding Pie?”

 

He pulled a face. “Ah--um, yeah, that was supposed to be for Rey.”

 

“Obviously.” His mother rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you’re still teasing that poor girl.”

 

He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous tick he couldn’t quite drop. “It’s not teasing, it’s subtle flirting.”

 

“Ben, you’re about as subtle as a sledgehammer,” she informed him.

 

He supposed he was--but Rey left him with no other option. She took his playfulness in stride, never pushed him away, but still kept him at arm’s length. Ben knew there was a point where he should give up, especially after six months of ridiculous nicknames and endless coffee. But she still checked her cup everyday without fail. She still _smiled,_ and even after months of watching her do it, Ben never grew tired of how her face would glow bright each time.

 

Perhaps it was naive of him, but Ben still held onto the hope that maybe, if he was patient…

 

“Where is Rey, anyway?” he asked, frowning now that it occurred to him that she didn’t miss work for anything.

 

“I had her stay home. Stubborn thing had a fever yesterday, and she still forced herself to come in. I told her to recover properly, even if it means not working for a few days.”

 

Rey was sick. It was the time of year for it; autumn was creeping closer and closer to winter, and a nasty case of the flu was making its rounds about town. Considering how hard she worked, it shouldn’t have surprised him that Rey caught something.

 

That didn’t mean he had to like it. He sucked his lower lip into his mouth in thought. She was likely alone in her apartment, without anyone to tuck her in or fetch her tea or _anything_. While he knew Rey would insist she didn’t need help, that didn’t change the fact that Ben wanted to.

 

Releasing his lower lip, he sighed. “You’re going to smack me if I ask for her address, aren’t you?”

 

His mother laughed softly, placing her hand on the crown of his head to stroke his hair.

 

“You actually aren’t toying with her, are you?” It wasn’t really a question. “You like her.”

 

Ben didn’t deny it, not when it was so clearly the truth. He did like her. He liked her a lot.

 

“Well, it would be inappropriate if I gave you her home address,” she said, then with quiet emphasis, _“but,_ if for whatever reason someone were to go into my office and happen across her file while I wasn’t looking, I guess there isn’t really much I could do about it.”

 

She gave him a hard look of warning then; there would be serious consequences if he disappointed her. He had better not give her reason to regret this decision.

 

Ben stooped to his feet in a giddy rush, hurriedly kissing his mother’s cheek. For a flustered moment, he glanced at his surroundings. He couldn’t appear at her apartment without offering her something.

 

He snatched the closest pot of chrysanthemums. “Can I take these?”

 

“Not the red ones,” she chided, taking the pot before he could flit inside to get Rey’s address. “I’m not letting you proposition a sick girl, for god’s sake. Bring her the violet ones.”

 

He huffed, but grabbed the violet chrysanthemums. “Fine.”

 

“I brought some of my homemade chicken soup for lunch. Bring her that too.”

 

Ben was grinning stupidly as he stormed through his mother’s shop. Brought chicken soup for lunch, his _ass_. She had planned this all along. He should have been ashamed that his mother was going to such great lengths to help him with a girl, but all Ben could think about was Rey, lonely and sick. Not for much longer, he swore.

 

It didn’t take long to find her file, and he searched without really seeing through her information, glazing over everything but her address. It was only one street over; he could walk.

 

Ben ran.

 

With one arm curled around the plant and his hand gripping the tupperware container of soup, he surely was a sight to behold, dashing down the sidewalk. He didn’t stop until he was rushing up her stairs and down the hall for her floor, nearly passing her unit.

 

He juggled the soup and plant, freeing one hand to rap on her door, then jerking his head to move his hair from his face.

 

Ben was still panting when the door opened a crack, one hazel eye peeking through to narrow at him in confusion.

 

“Ben?”

 

The door swung open completely. She wasn’t in pajamas, and she didn’t look like she had just pried herself from bed. Rey was wearing a faded tee and an even more worn pair of cutoffs, yellow rubber gloves covering her arms to the elbows.

 

“Why aren’t you resting?” he asked.

 

She remained unbothered. “I told Leia I was fine, but she still insisted I stay home. I figured I should clean the bathroom since it was an unexpected day off.”

 

Ben all but dumped the chrysanthemums into her arms.

 

“Turn around,” he said, tracing circles in the air with his pointer finger. She opened her mouth to complain, but he simply repeated, “Turn around, Rey.”

 

He gently pushed her back inside with a hand on her lower back. Ben could feel the heat of her skin seeping through the thin material of her clothes; she definitely wasn’t well enough to be out of bed.

 

“I don’t need flowers,” she muttered, placing the pot on her kitchen table.

 

He set the tupperware next to it, then turned her towards him. She rolled her eyes at him when he pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. She was burning up.

 

“What are you doing? Ben, I’m--”

 

“You’re _not_ fine,” Ben grumbled. “You still have a fever. Go change and get into bed while I heat up the soup. I’ll be checking in on you in five minutes, so you better be swaddled in a fuckin’ mountain of blankets.”

 

He entered her kitchen, bringing his mother’s home cooked soup with him.

 

“I _certainly_ don’t need a mother,” she said, standing in place. “I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time.”

 

Ben stilled, abandoning his search for a pot to stare at her. “Rey, I didn’t mean you couldn’t take care of yourself.”

 

He saw her jaw tighten before she swiftly pivoted, stepping back towards where her bathroom surely was situated. Ben stumbled out of the kitchen to follow her, and though she could hear him catching up, she paid him no notice, refusing to look back at him.

 

“Rey,” he called as she swerved into the lit bathroom and out of sight.

 

She didn’t answer, and he chased her in as she leaned over a small tub, sponge in hand. She scrubbed vigorously with the green side down, continuing to ignore his presence. Bewildered, and with a strange twinge of pain in his chest, he grabbed her wrist to halt her her forceful cleaning.

 

“Is it so hard to believe that someone might _want_ to take care of you?”

 

She lightly yanked on her hand, and he released it, only for her to pull it towards her chest.

 

“Why?” she breathed. “You barely know me.”

 

“Not for lack of trying,” he whispered back.

 

Ben longed to be let in, she must have known that. Why else would he keep trying? Her walls were built of brick though, and there was nothing he could do to blow them down; she had to be the one unlock the front door.

 

_“Why?”_ she asked again, voice straining. “People don’t just do that. You have no reason--”

 

“You know that isn’t true,” he interrupted. “You already know how I feel about you.”

 

She sucked in sharply, her breath rattling in her lungs.

 

He had said it. What had been pressing against his throat every time he saw her little smile. A strange sense of relief flooded him, his limbs heavy with the thick ease that surged warm and steady through his veins. He should have been frank with her, from those first few days he had known her.

 

Ben resisted the urge to bend his lips forward and graze them over the graceful slope of her neck.

 

Finally, he sighed. “Come on. You should be in bed, watching old cartoons or something.”

 

This time, she nodded her head, relenting. Ben helped her stand and peeled her gloves from her arms, setting them on the nearby bathroom sink before nudging her towards the direction of her bedroom.

 

He heard her sniffle, but he couldn’t be sure if it was because she was sick, or if she was crying.

 

She was wearing a large sweatshirt and sitting up in her bed when he brought her a mug of hot soup. The broth was salty and nearing opaque from boiling chicken bones with the meat, soft carrots and celery settled at the bottom of the mug, and he watched her blow on a spoonful with satisfaction. She looked at him shyly, uncertainty palpable in the air.

 

“Can you stay?”

 

“Yes,” he told her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, we'll earn the E-rating in the next chapter with a little bit of heat. ;)
> 
> Thanks for reading, and for the amazing response! I appreciate each and every comment/kudo I get.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I'm sure I'm not the only American out there in need of some cheering up. So, drown yourself in fluff (and a bit of smut!), my friends. We'll get through this together.
> 
> Thanks again to grlie-girl for being an awesome beta. :)

Rey stirred from her feverish haze to vague memories of Ben somehow appearing at her home to nurse her. She could remember him laying on top of her comforter, one of his arms tilted towards her so she could trace the hard, black lines of his tattooes.

 

She should have felt mortified. He was her boss’s son, and it was inappropriate for her to even let him into her flat, but all she felt was a happy sort of peace.

 

When she finally crawled out from her cocoon of blankets and sheets, the violet chrysanthemums were still on the kitchen table, but there was a sticky note pasted to the pot. She peeled it off to read in his scratchy script, _Cuddle Buns,_ and laughed.

 

Rey didn’t care if he _was_ Leia’s son. She should have listened to Finn a long time ago.

 

She snipped off the fullest chrysanthemum with kitchen scissors, carefully wrapping it in the old page of a newspaper. She tucked it into her jacket, walking from her apartment building rather than taking her bike. It was brisk out, but the cool air was refreshing against her exposed cheeks.

 

Rather than cross the street to head towards _Bee’s,_ she turned to tread towards the tattoo shop. She hadn’t gone there since the first time, but she didn’t allow herself the time to waver outside and entered. The door shut loudly, just as it had the last time she had visited him here, but she didn’t flinch at the sound.

 

Ben strolled from the small, closed off area that must have been his workspace, pleased but instantly concerned when he saw her.

 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, leaning against the front counter.

 

“Good,” she said, and his expression relaxed. “I actually wanted to ask about getting something done.”

 

He tilted his head in confusion.

 

“Getting something…?- _-oh!”_ Ben stood up straight, excitement clear on his face. “You want a tattoo?”

 

Childishly giddy, he gripped her hand and guided her back into the shop. “I think we can manage that.”

 

They passed two other enclosed spaces, labeled _General Terror_ and _Phas-mom_ respectively, and he tugged her into the station with _Kylo Ren_ outside it’s doorless entrance.

 

“Kylo Ren?” she questioned. “Is that supposed to be an artist name?”

 

He rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling uncomfortably as he sat on a stool and swiveled about to face her. “I may or may not have been really into DnD when I was in high school. Like an idiot, I put Hux in charge of getting placards, and now it’s stuck. Very few people I know in the industry actually call me Ben.”

 

She took a seat on a leather chair. “I wouldn’t have guessed you were into Dungeons and Dragons.”

 

He rolled towards her. “I was a gangly geek as a teenager, complete with greasy hair and pizza face. I was so textbook that it’s embarrassing.”

 

“Well,” she said, reaching into her coat, “I wouldn’t call you _gangly--”_

 

He barked a laugh. “Are you calling me a geek?”

 

She grinned back at him. “I didn’t say that.”

 

Rey unfurled the newspaper wrapping, then raised the chrysanthemum to him. “Could you do this?”

 

His smile melted, and her heart nearly gave out at the soft expression. He covered the hand she had squeezed around the flower stem, gaze a warm brown that reminded her of sun-soaked earth and smooth, sanded wood.

 

“Where were you thinking of putting it?”

 

Rey let her coat fall from her shoulders, offering her right arm to him, twisting it to show the back of her upper arm. She glided her palm down from armpit to elbow. “Over here, in black and white.”

 

He nodded his head, reeling back to his desk to snip a rectangle out of a roll of parchment paper.

 

“About this size?” he asked, laying the narrow strip of paper over her skin. “This is a pretty sensitive spot, by the way.”

 

She glanced over her shoulder to where it stretched over her upper arm, at most four inches in length. “Yeah, that looks good. I have a pretty wide threshold when it comes to pain.”

 

“Really? Be careful then, getting inked can be addictive,” he teased with a wriggle of his eyebrows. Ben took the chrysanthemum, holding it out at different angles as he considered it. “I can have a sketch ready by tomorrow. Maybe stop by after work? Be sure to eat something first; it’ll probably take me about two hours and you don’t want your blood sugar to be too low or you’ll feel faint.”

 

“Okay,” she said, pulling her coat back on. “Is that it?”

 

He placed the chrysanthemum on his desk. “Yup, that’s pretty much it. We’ll go over the exact sizing and placement tomorrow, once I have a sketch finished.”

 

She shuddered a nervous sigh, standing slowly. His expression was cheerful and kind, and it morphed into utter surprise when she tilted forward without a moment’s thought and pressed her lips to his cheek.

 

“Thank you,” she mumbled, meeting his shocked gaze, only to lose confidence once more and hurry out as fast as her feet could carry her, cursing her impulsiveness the whole way home.

 

…

 

Rey had kissed him. It was only on the cheek, but it had been an actual, real kiss. It was all Ben’s mind could focus on, even as he stared at the chrysanthemum. _She had kissed him,_ repeated in his head non-stop for a full hour, and he’d yet to even set his pencil to paper.

 

What was he supposed to think now? Had it been a signal to go ahead? It might have just been a little kiss between friends. Normal people did that, he was certain. _No, they didn’t,_ a traitorous part of him roared back.

 

He couldn’t take it too seriously, he told himself. Rey was sweet, she didn’t mean anything by it. His little honey bee, his drop of sunshine, his sugar pop-- _fuck,_ he had it bad.

 

Ben was trying to remember just why he couldn’t do something about it. He had spent six long months telling himself she wasn’t interested, but why had he been so sure of that?

 

Staring at his blank page and the nearby flower he was supposed to be drawing, he suddenly knew he wouldn’t be able to work until he understood what that kiss had meant. If he was right, and Rey _was_ interested in being more than...whatever they already were, Ben would finally feel able to do something about it. If he was misunderstanding her kindness for more, then he’d be the only one hurt by it.

 

“Phasma, you’re in charge,” he called, yanking on a jacket and already headed for the entrance. Hux whined just in time for the door to slam shut.

 

There was a sharp, icy wind that ripped right through him, and Ben was troubled by the thought that Rey, still recovering, had been out in such chilly weather. Her eyes had been so lively, though, her cheeks pink from the cold and light exercise. He clenched and then unclenched his fists repeatedly as he traveled down the sidewalk in long strides, imagining her flushed skin and faint freckles, her hidden smiles and pouting, lower lip, her pealing laughter and discreet glances.

 

He recalled the last time he had gone to her flat, and she had deliriously traced her slender fingers over the tattooes smattered over his arms and shoulders.

 

Ben tried to think of something sensible to say to her, any sort of explanation to give her as to why he was appearing at her home without invitation or even a good reason. His mind was still blanking as he marched up the stairs of her building. He knocked, and she answered with her hair down, wearing a ratty crop top and another pair of cutoffs.

 

Ben wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her look more appealing.

 

“You kissed me,” he blurted.

 

Seemingly ashamed, she looked away. Ben wasn’t going to allow her to be embarrassed or even worse--to pretend it hadn’t happened at all. He cupped both her cheeks, forcing her to meet his gaze when she wouldn’t of her own volition.

 

“Ben--”

 

“I want to kiss you back,” he interrupted, then amending nervously, “Well, I want to do more than that, but I can wait to take you to dinner.”

 

She licked her lips, and Ben was amazed that it had taken him this long to be frank with her. He wanted to devour her whole.

 

“I don’t think I can wait to kiss you,” he added, voice lowering an octave as he gradually inched nearer.

 

She visibly swallowed, her eyes dropping a moment to his parted lips before she caught herself and forced them upwards. They stared at each other for another agonizing second, before she stretched to her toes and slid against him to peck his lips.

 

Exhaling, she retreated slightly. Ben followed after her, determined to see her face after being properly kissed, lips swollen and hair a tousled mess. The collision of their mouths was firm, her lips pliant against his as she hummed a sigh, the small puffs of her tantalizing breath sweet to the taste.

 

He growled, nipping at her lower lip to make her gasp, desperate to taste more. She nibbled back, arms clinging to his hips as she drew him closer, and then into her apartment. He shuddered as two, dainty hands slipped under the hems of his shirt and jacket to trail short nails along the divot of his spine. Her breasts pressed flat to his chest, and he delighted in the knowledge that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

 

Ben gripped her narrow hips, holding her close as her tongue tentatively flicked into his mouth. He chased her into her own mouth, his tongue plunging in and swiping along everything in reach, eliciting a long moan from her that he could feel against his chest.

 

They twisted together, touching and sighing as he took more and more, and she ate it up in turn, shoving him against the door as she grabbed at his hair, groaning as she combed through his dark curls.

 

Ben smiled. She was so perfect. He slowed the kiss with unhurried circles of his tongue, grinning as he finally lifted his face away. She beamed back at him, and happy satisfaction swelled in his chest.

 

“I have to go back to work,” he confessed in a hushed tone.

 

She kissed him once more, subdued and lazy. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Pancakes,” she said, the last part so quiet that he scarcely heard her.

 

A surprised sound came from the back of his throat. How was he supposed to leave after being called something like that? He ducked his lips down once more, and she giggled warmly as his mouth lay ruin to the elegant slant of her throat, sucking and lapping at the sensitive skin until she had a whole chain of blotchy, red and purple petals around her neck.

 

…

 

Skin still steaming from her too-hot shower, Rey wiped condensation from her bathroom mirror to stare at the bruising points of red branded to her throat by Ben’s full, giving lips. Obnoxious though his hickeys might have been, Rey brushed the tips of her fingers across her flushed skin. She rather liked them; it was a shame she had to cover her neck to hide them from Leia’s perceptive gaze.

 

She pulled on a turtleneck.

 

When she didn’t see him sit out front like he usually did, Rey struggled to not give away her anxiety. She knew it had nothing to do with how Ben felt about her--he had made _that_ abundantly clear. Her face warmed at the thought, and she went about her morning duties without interruption.

 

Ben strolled into the shop around fifteen minutes after opening time at ten. She stood at the counter, trying to avoid pricking herself as she clipped off thorns from rose stems that were to be tied together into a birthday bouquet. Leia was in her office though in view, but if he was bothered by his mother’s nearby whereabouts, he certainly didn’t show it.

 

“Sorry for not bringing your coffee sooner,” he said, dopey grin plastered on his face. “I was up late working on a few sketches for your chrysanthemum.”

 

He eyed her sweater, looking as if he could burst into rambunctious laughter at any moment. Instead, he held out her coffee, _Sweet Cheeks_ turned towards her. She rolled her eyes but still brought him closer with the beckoning curl of her pointer finger.

 

“How does the cafe barista _not_ hate you by now?”

 

Ben snickered, leaning against the counter between them to smooth his lips over hers.

 

“I’m just too charming for anyone to hate me,” he said. “It’s a curse, really.”

 

She hummed, wetting her lips with a dart of her tongue. “Yes, I’m sure it is.”

 

He skimmed a second kiss over her mouth, only to be interrupted by a quiet, knowing, _“ahem.”_

 

Rey jerked in surprise, though she felt silly doing it; she had known Leia was able to see them. Ben was less bothered by being caught, his shoulders thrown back with pride as he met his mother’s gaze with a level look.

 

“Are you two finally done dancing around each other?” Leia asked, crossing her arms as she propped herself against the jamb of her open office door.

 

“Yup,” Ben chirped, then looking at her for approval, “at least I think so.”

 

Rey pursed her lips, but that wasn’t enough to hold back a smile.

 

“Yup,” he confirmed, “done dancing.”

 

“Good,” Leia said, returning into her office.

 

Surprised that there was no further discussion, Rey slumped in relief, exhaling slowly.

 

“Will you join me for dinner tonight?” he asked. “It doesn’t have to be anything fancy and I don’t have any other evening appointments, so we can just go after I finish getting you inked. If you want.”

 

She glanced down at her jeans and turtleneck sweater. She wasn’t exactly wearing anything that was exciting enough for a first date, but if he didn’t care, neither did she.

 

“I do want to,” she said.

 

That was all he needed to hear. His goodbye kiss was sloppy and full of tongue, and he nearly skipped on his way out.

 

…

 

A month since having Rey in his chair and her tattoo was nicely healed, irritated skin no longer peeling, little hairs growing back. She stirred when Ben pressed his lips to her vivid, inked skin, but she didn’t wake. It was a late Saturday afternoon, and through her partially open blinds, he could see the sky smeared with contrasting orange and violet. It was his day off, so he had swept her away from _Bee’s_ a half-hour early and dragged her back to her place.

 

He liked easy, nearly lazy sex with her, with his body curled around her smaller one, holding her close as they rolled their hips together in languid thrusts. He also liked rutting into her as she writhed and panted, his name a desperate prayer on the tip of her tongue. Ben wasn’t sure there was anything he _didn’t_ like about intimacy with her.

 

He trailed his tongue along her arm, rubbing his saliva into her skin with the pad of his thumb, before placing a wet, sucking kiss to the center of her chrysanthemum that released with a smack of his lips.

 

At this, she roused, whining, “Are you drooling on me?”

 

He laughed. “What if I am?”

 

Her eyes opened a crack to peek up at him, nudging her backside at his groin, burying herself closer.

 

“I’d have to drool on you, too,” she decided, tiredly shutting her eyes against the setting sun.

 

Ben chuckled, “You seem to think that would bother me.”

 

Rey twisted, hooking a bare leg over his hip, trapping his half-hard dick between their bodies.

 

“Okay, smart guy,” she said, pert mouth closing around his nipple, purring as she laved at his skin with slow strokes of her hot tongue.

 

However shy she might have seemed, Rey certainly knew what she was doing in bed. He shuddered when she shifted her hips, opening her legs further to slide the slick heat of her sex along the underside of his length in measured jerks.

 

“Christ, Rey,” he shivered a gasp, growing harder.

 

She adjusted the angle of her hips again, and without another word, he glided into her with a smooth heave. They lay there for a moment, savoring the stretch of her accommodating cunt, breathing each other’s air and clinging to one another as she squeezed her inner muscles to throb around him.

 

“Tease,” he accused, pushing her onto her back and settling his weight on her.

 

With a grin, she wrapped her legs about his hips, heels digging into his lower back. “Hypocrite.”

 

He snorted, ducking his head to drag his tongue over her throat, slurping on her skin to make her laugh as he rocked into her.

 

Ben didn’t last long; he had come only an hour earlier, and she seemed set on shoving him over the edge once more, gripping onto his cock through each strained thrust, her hips roughly meeting his with wet slaps.

 

“Fuck,” he sighed, hips slamming through his orgasm before he spurt short gushes of come, deeply set in her.

 

Rey moaned in a low voice, reeling her hips through it, milking him.

 

“Sorry,” Ben mumbled, gliding from her slowly, sitting up to watch as the creamy white of his release spilled from her swollen, red slit in thick trickles.

 

She planted the bottoms of her feet to the bed, lifting her hips to better his view. “If you want to apologize, you should clean up the mess you made.”

 

“You’re so perfect,” he uttered, hunger flashing in his gut.

 

His mouth was on her so quickly she snickered. He swore he’d have her screaming by the time he was done with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the absolutely amazing response I've gotten for this fic! It was such a pleasure to write, and I'm so glad that other people have enjoyed reading it just as much. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I know there was no smut in this chapter, but don't worry. We'll get there. ;)
> 
> Feedback is appreciated, as always. :)


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